


It's the end of the world as we know it

by Small_bump



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Alien Invasion, Alternate Universe, M/M, Medic!Robert, Solider!Aaron, based loosely on falling skies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-21
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2019-05-26 11:06:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14999585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Small_bump/pseuds/Small_bump
Summary: As their camp embarks on a week-long treck towards safer territory, out of the city. Robert reflects, on the past and the present, and if a life with Aaron is even possible at 'the end of the fucking world.'





	1. (a)

 

**Day 532**

He can hear it- he’s heart slamming against his chest, his breath stuttered as he exhales. He uses the back of his palm to wipe the spit from the outer corner of his mouth. Disgustingly, a habit from childhood, he inspects it, and just as he suspects, there’s blood mingled in his saliva, now starting to dry. 

He just wants to rest, lay his head down for just a second, right here on the stone floor (he’s just so tired.) but there’s no rest for the wicked, as he feels the eyes begin to droop, the door to the kitchen- an old rusty metal, screaks as its yanked open.  

“Another fight? Honestly, are you trying to get yourself killed?” There’s a bite to his voice- Aaron’s, but it’s not malice, it’s not intended to hurt- but he’s mad, Robert can tell (he’s sorry.)

“Robert,” Aaron snaps, forcing Robert to open his eyes. His breath is still shallow, a loud noise that kidnaps the room kidnaps his voice. Perhaps it’s for the best that Robert can’t speak, can’t let the truth tumble from his lips because he’s tired, just wants to give up, want’s this god damn war to be over already but it feels never-ending.

“I’m not Liv,” he finally says in a quiet voice, “I’m not gonna leave ya.” He stares Aaron in the eyes then, sees them wild and expects a punch, because they don’t talk about Liv- not even at night when they’re bundled under the covers, praying their camp isn’t exposed by skitters.

Robert had never met her, just gone eleven when she’d been taken. He hadn’t meet Aaron till well after the world had gone to shit, till well after science fiction stories-well stopped being fiction. And even now, going on two years since the evasion, they’re still at a loss as to what they- the skitters wanted with the kids they’d taken.

“You sure? Because you seem to be doing a pretty damn good job in making sure if the skitters don’t kill ya, someone in this camp will.”

“It’s not right,” Robert says through gritted teeth, “moving everyone- most of them won’t make it.”

Aaron moves forward then, until he’s right in front of him, his legs and torso right in Robert’s line of vision. He kneels, taking Robert’s hands into his own. “They will because they have you.”

He shakes his head, “I’m not a doctor.” He’ll always hate the way his voice wobbles because he wishes he was stronger, for Aaron, for Vic. He wishes he wasn’t so damn scared and tried (but he is.)

“Maybe not, but you’re all they got, and they believe in you- and so do I.” 

Robert J Sugden, self-proclaimed medic, he wonders what his father would think of him if he was here. What he’d think of how his son handled the end of the fucking world, or at least the end of the world as they knew it.

“I’m sorry, I’m just tired,” he mutters, “it’s been one of those days, I’ll apologise to Cain first thing.”

Aaron nods, groaning as he stands up, stretching out his back. “Come on, Vic’s managed to save ya a ration in the mess hall, better hurry up Adam had his eye on it when I left.”

He huffs out a laugh, shaking his head, “typical, you’d think the lad had two stomachs or something- maybe he’s a skitter in disguise.”

“Nah he’s to shit of a liar for that.”

He lets Aaron lead the way, still, a little light-headed from the punch Cain had thrown earlier; just between his jaw. It’s still sore, and when Robert put’s his fingers to the skin, his eye twitches from the pain. 

It’s just another day isn’t it? Just another day since the world’s gone to shit. It’ll be better in the morning, it has to be their moving, and when he thinks about it the same sense of forbidding settles in his stomach.

He’ll make it work, he’ll get them through it. (He’s still so fucking tired though.) 


	2. (b)

 

**Day 3**

“No,” Robert croaks out, shaking his head frantically “you can’t go out there Andy- _you_ can’t.”

It’s been days since the invasion - days filled with nothing but the steady hum from the ships that had swarmed the sky, a perceptual darkness, blocking the sun.

He’s got Victoria’s head resting in his lap, having finally convinced the teen to get some much-needed rest- she was _trying,_ desperately trying to act as though she wasn’t scared out of her _mind._ Robert wants to tell her _‘it’s okay, we’re all scared shitless’_ but he doesn’t know if that would make the teen feel better, or _worse._

“We need food,” Andy insists, with one swift motion unhooking his coat from the rack “if there’s any chance of us surviving this _thing-_ what the hell it is, we need supplies.”

“I’ll go then, I’ll go-”

“No,” Andy interrupts, effectively shutting Robert down. “Vic’s finally dozed off, I don’t want to wake her up. Just stay here, and don’t answer the door for _anyone,_ you hear me?”

Robert nods, letting out a stuttered breath. He doesn’t want this- doesn’t want any of _this._ He wants to go back to the way things were- he wants to go back to Monday morning, he wants to go back to waking up to that god awful early alarm, to sleepily stumbling down the stairs for breakfast, to knowing despite his best attempt he was still going to be late for his lecture. He wants to go _back._

“Now, I’m going the lock door. Just in case there’s spare set of keys in the kitchen on the counter by the oven,” Andy instructs.

He crouches down, meeting Robert at eye level from where he’s sat on the sofa, with an unstirring Victoria. He leans forward, places a hand to Robert’s shoulder and _smiles-_ a smile that doesn’t quite reach the eyes “whatever happens it’s going to be okay, I’ll be back in a few hours.”

His gone then, and Robert's left with nothing but silence, only broken by the sound of his sister's heavy breathing.

 

 

 

**Day 533**

He’s packing away the last of the supplies, when his watch _beeps,_ lifting him out of his focused trance. It’s important if they were going to survive the move they needed to be prepared.

It’s _time-_ time to start moving the supplies over to the truck, Robert had snagged from Cain during his makeshift apology this morning. The back would be able to carry around five to six of the weakest in the group, those too sick to walk such long distances.

Driven by Earl, Robert knows they’ll be in good hands, and so will his supplies. He sure trusts the elderly man a hell of a lot more than one of Cain’s goons- sans _Aaron_ of course.

He bites the corner of his still swollen bottom lip out nerves, wincing slightly. It’ll be better once they get everyone safely to the new camp- he knows it will.

It’s an expression Robert’s been finding himself using a lot lately _‘it’ll be better,’_ he uses it for everything, _‘it’ll be better in the morning,’_ and so _on._ Will it though? Will it really be better? He’s not sure, but he needs to believe it will be, or Robert thinks he’d be well and truly  _done._

Not being able to stall for any longer, he grabs one of the crates filled with antibiotics the camp had managed to score during a raid of a local hospital. He walks out of the tent, and towards the truck parked by the doors to the mess hall.

“ _Finally,_ what took you so long Sugden!” Adam shouts playfully. He's stood by the truck, and he turns to open the back doors as Robert makes his way towards him. 

“Well organising medical supplies is a tad bit more complicated than pointing a gun in the air and hoping you don’t _miss._ ”

“Adam, Cain wants a word,” Aaron’s voice echoes from behind him, as he places the crate inside. He wonders if Cain actually does want a _word,_ or if Aaron just knows that today of all days Robert just wasn’t in the mood for Adam’s particular brand of humour.

Adam leaves then, Aaron taking his spot- he stands taller- taller then he _actually_ he is when he’s in uniform. An army patterned cladding get up, with a rifle comfortable snug in his hand- it scares Robert sometimes, how comfortable Aaron is with a gun. Why he’s so comfortable with a _gun._ Not because he doesn’t trust Aaron, but because this isn’t the world he wanted- for Aaron, for Victoria- for _himself._

He doesn’t want Aaron to have to be comfortable with a gun, to know the younger lad only feels safe when it’s around. He knows, even though he’s pretty sure Aaron thinks he’s none the wiser, that he tucks it under his side of the mattress when he thinks Robert’s asleep.

It’s not like Robert would ever say anything, what helps, _helps._ But he wishes _he_ made Aaron feel safe- it hurts, a bitter pill to swallow to know he doesn’t.

“How’s the face?” Aaron asks hesitantly like he’s afraid to overstep, “you kicked more than usual last night, you in pain?”

Robert mouths a 'no', shakes his head, turning to face Aaron. “Just couldn’t sleep is all, big day today.”

Aaron nods, he _knows-_ knows it’s more than that but doesn’t push. They’ve been sharing a bed for a little over 6 months now, been-whatever they _are-_ Robert doesn’t even know what to call it. What do you call relationships once the world has fucking ended?

The point is they’ve shared a room long enough to know they both have nightmares. Aaron’s are usually about Liv, about finding her only to realises she’s not really _there_ anymore- nothing more than an empty shell, with lifeless eyes- just like all the other kids they’d found.

And Robert? Well, he dreams of his brother- of the one that never came back. Sometimes he dreams he does, other times its just endless waiting, _knowing-_ but never being able to wake himself up.

“Do you need help loading the rest of the stuff?” Aaron offers, soft eyes- always _soft_ and so caring whenever they're looking in Robert’s direction. It makes him feel- _loved._ Makes him love Aaron that much _more,_ an aching desire to give him _everything-_ everything he has.

He smiles, chin wobbling as he tries desperately to school his expression, “yeah that would be great.”

“Come on,” Aaron assures, hand to Robert’s elbow- a steady grounding pressure, “let’s get the rest of this loaded before we run behind schedule and Cain has a fit.”

 


	3. (c)

 

**Day 534**

It’s Jason’s fault entire he’s a _bully-_ one of Cain’s lunatic goons, if Robert had his way, he’d have been kicked out on his ear by _now._ But according to Cain, he’s the best at what he does- _shooting._ Apparently, they’d picked him up when their camp had been nothing but a handful of civilians, too many mouths to feed and not enough manpower _._

Jason had been fending for himself, living in an abounded Tesco of all places- he may have been a bully, but he wasn’t a fool. _Still,_ best or not Robert could do without the attitude, they were doing their _best._

“Hurry up,” Jason shouts towards the crowd, for the _tenth_ time.

Robert bares his teeth and tries to ignore it. He can hear it- Sally, a woman in her late forties wheeze, she’s got asthma- she shouldn’t be pushing herself like this, it’s dangerous-

“Hurry. It. Up.” – and suddenly Robert’s had enough. 

He’s storming over, tapping Sally on the shoulder as he goes, giving her a comforting smile when they briefly make eye contact. “Oi,” it’s Robert’s turn to shout this time, “would you cool it? They're going as fast they can.”  

Jason laughs, stopping dead in the centre of the crowd, who takes no notice and continues walking. “Well look at that, Dingle’s fella wants me to _cool_ it. You going to defend them when night hits and we’re still out here in the open?” He asks with a condescending tone to his voice, “I’ll give you a gun, shall I? Maybe you can actually be of some use.”

He wants to rise to it, wants to land a punch to that smug face- he wants to _hurt._ But it turns out he doesn’t have to in the end because it’s Aaron’s turn to lose it. They’re quite the pair Robert thinks, one of them causing the mess, and the other cleaning up the debris.

Aaron pushes him, comes up from behind and shoves him to the ground, and for a bloke on the bigger side, he tumbles as he falls- _hard_ to the ground.

“Back the fuck off Reed,” he spits out, and Robert jumps into action then, grabbing the younger lad by the elbow and dragging him back towards the “slackers,”, a name Jason had so eloquently given the group trailing towards the end of the crowd.    

“What was that about not getting myself killed eh?” Robert jokes, nocking his shoulder into Aaron’s side, earning him a smile- he feels _proud._ Aaron’s smile was one of the things Robert loved the most about him, _bright_ and so out of place for the post-apocalyptic situation they had found themselves in. It felt like the literal _sun,_ shining down on him, so warm- Robert could bask in it forever.

“What can I say I’m not fond of bully’s- he deserved.”

“He did,” Robert agrees, as he watches Aaron fiddle with the strap of his gun. Maybe Jason was right about one thing, maybe he should be carrying _one-_ maybe it was better off for everyone if Robert just stopped mucking around and learnt how to _shoot_ the damn thing. To stop being afraid of it. 

 

 

 

 

Robert was never very fond of camping growing up. Andy _loved_ it, he’d always beg their parents to take them at least once during the summer holidays. It was usually during those begging sessions, Robert would silently pray they’d say _‘no.’_ He didn’t want to spend his holiday sleeping on _dirt-_

Now every night was a permeant camping session- but at least he was _alive._

“Do you think there they'll ever be an end to all this?” Robert asks. They’re both laying bell to the ceiling, tent zipped up, most of the way, a little gap at the top left open to allow a light breeze to cool them down.

“What do mean,” Aaron replies, drowsily. He rubs the centre of his right eye with the base of his palm. “of course, there will be.”

He wishes he had Aaron’s confidence, wishes he could see an ‘ _after’_ the end of the fucking world, he wishes he could picture what that looked like, but he _can’t._

Do him and Aaron even stand a chance?  How long is it going to be before the skitters close in on them and they're all whipped out- _dead?_ It’ll be as if they never existed like they were never _there._ He’s seen those documentaries- seen how the earth heals, evolves, moves _on._ It doesn’t need humans to survive.

He lets out an audible gulp, turning onto his side to position himself close to Aaron, “I don’t know, sometimes I think they’re just playing with us, waiting until the time’s right before they attack.”

“If that was the case we'd be dead by now, it's been over a year.”

“But-

Aaron interrupted him then, sliding his hand to grasp Robert’s tightly intertwining their fingers into a tight lock. “No- we can’t lose hope, it’s the one thing they can’t _take_ from us because it’s what we do, what we’ve done for thousands of years. We preserve. Against all _odds._ We just do.”

Robert nods, shifting into a comfortable position. Aaron’s not asleep yet, but Robert can make out he’s shallow breath, the younger lads inches from sleep.

“I love you,” he whispers out, feels Aaron’s fingers tighten again- _not_ yet. He can’t say it yet, but Robert will earn it, he’ll wait-and when he does, when Aaron does say it, it’ll be one of the greatest victories he’s ever earned.

He’ll _wait._

 

 

 

 

He’s shaken awake, almost violently so by wide-eyed Aaron- wearing an expression, Robert’s never seen on him before.

They’d found kids by the river, and Robert doesn’t like where Aaron’s explanation is going- because he’d made it clear after the last time _,_ he wouldn’t try and remove those _things,_ again.

Whatever the skitters had attacked to those kids backs, no one knew. But Robert was aware of one thing, without them, those kids _died-_ every single time-

_‘Please, imagine if we figure out how to save them! Imagine! We could save Liv.’_

That’s the thing about hope- too much, was a dangerous thing.  

 

 


	4. (d)

**Day 536**

There’s hope, and then there’s naive stupidity, and as much as it pained Robert to think it, Aaron’s behaviour was verging on the latter. He understood- of course he did they’d all lost someone, some more than others, but he’d swore after the last time they’d tried, swore to himself after he’d washed the blood off his hands that he’d never go down that path again and he’d meant and now Aaron was standing there. Starting up at Robert with those god damn eyes, and his begging, begging Robert to do this and _‘what if it had been Andy?’_ and god that was a low fucking blow.

He loses his nerve, eye twitching, heart pounding against his chest, so fast he almost feels dizzy. Aaron’s expecting Robert to perform a fucking miracle, to do something someone with a medical degree probably wouldn’t have been able to do- how could he remove something when he didn’t even know what that something was? The few times they’d tried, in the early days when Robert still held out hope that they could take the skitters head on- the end result had always been the  _same._

The procedure involved removing the thing controlling the kids, a harness of sorts that started from the base of the neck and trailed down the back until it reached the bottom of the tail bone. It mimicked an outer spine of sorts. Robert knew virtually nothing about it, but what he did know was that the harness merged with the body, in ways none of them were able to comprehend. Removing it had resulted in internal bleeding, organ failure, and a host of other overly complicated problems Robert had no clue how to solve.

“Fuck,” he curses, under his breath. Say he even agreed to do this, say they even found Liv, who’s to say she’d be the one to survive when all others died? Who’s to say Aaron wouldn’t have to watch his sister die- who’s to say Robert wouldn’t lose him forever?

Robert turns around then, towards the makeshift operating table, towards the malnourished boy splayed out across it- scratches litter his face, from god knows where. His eyes wander up then, to Aaron’s face illuminated by the moonlight, cascading in through the crack in one of the aluminium walls.

“Please-Robert fuck,” Aaron begs, he doesn’t move towards him- “I know I’m asking a lot, I know I’m asking you to do something that’s gonna hurt and I wish I didn’t have to I wish I could just turn it off and not care- but she’s out there, and she needs me, and I don’t have it in me to stop trying to save her.”

He resigns himself then, places his hand to the boy’s forehead- feels the heat raiding from his core. “Okay,” he nods, “but not tonight, in the morning- I’ll ask Leyla to assist.” He watches Aaron then, can feel the gratitude oozing out from him- Robert doesn’t want it, not when he knows he’s condemning the innocent kid lying in front of him to death.

 

 

 

“You could’ve consulted me before volunteering me to help you with this shit,” Leyla snaps, and Robert knows he deserves it- but who else was he going to volunteer to help him? The group of medics he was training, and he uses that term loosely because half the time he doesn't even know what he's doing let alone teach anyone _else_ \- all of who couldn’t even stomach the sight of blood, let alone help him perform an experimental procedure on alien technology. Ya know just another day ordinary day after the end of the fucking world.

“There wasn’t anyone else to volunteer Le unless you want to put this kid’s faith in the hands of Ben, who couldn’t even do a stitch without puking his guts right after.”

(‘You could have said no’) – it’s hanging in the air, like a stale smell from leaving a room locked up for too long with the windows shut. He could have- should have, but didn’t and they both know why.

“So we're really doing this again uh,” she scoffs, “do you have a game plan this time, or we still taking a stab in the dark and hoping it takes?”

“Essentially.”

 

 

  
It doesn’t work- of course, it doesn’t, it’s pretty on brand for him, god forbid the universe gave him a break- ever. Leyla and him do their thing, try everything they’d learnt from the last time they’d attempted to remove a harness, but it’s the same old shit, just on a different back- every attempt they make at stopping a bleed just leads to another, every organ they salvage just results in another one starting to shutting down and there’s no medical textbook to help figure out what to do when a body starts to fucking malfunction on such a monumental level. They persevere, well into the night, until this kid, who Robert doesn’t even know the name of's heart stops beating- it takes three shocks for him to admit to himself, that it’s over, another failure.

It’s alright, (it’s not) he tries unconvincingly to tell himself as he burrows his way under the covers, hair wet, damping his pillow. Aaron’s there too, chest to Robert’s back, the stubble from his beard leaving red tracks down his milky white skin- his whispering things into Robert’s ear. A never-ending litany of praises, and thank you’s and at some point he just has to tune him out- tune the man he loves out because it’s too much, because there are moment’s when it feels like the sky was falling, like the monsters had really won and now was one of those moments, and he couldn’t control the unrelenting feeling in the pit of his stomach telling him to just give up already.

 

 

 

**Day 5**

She’s crying, shamelessly crying big fat tears that run down her face and pool underneath her chin- ‘his not coming back’ she sobs over and over- and at first, Robert had told her she was being ridiculous, that Andy would never let them down.

-and he believes that, believes that Andy would never let them down by choice- loyal as a fucking dog, but as the days turned into nights Robert was forced to wonder- maybe she was right, maybe he wasn’t coming back- which could only mean one thing- he was gone.

 

 

  
**Day 537**

Robert had just dozed off when for the second time in a matter of days he was woken up with a start- this time however it wasn’t by Aaron, who appeared as confused as himself. It's the shouting that pulls him out of his sleep like state, which could only mean one thing at this hour- someone- no something had found their camp.

Aaron bolt’s up first, grabbing his gun and hurriedly toeing into his shoes before making a run for the door. Robert’s slower, less sure, he doesn’t have the comfort of a weapon to keep him safe (not that he wants one), so instead he carefully, walks towards the group huddled towards the entrance of camp, Cain at the centre of it all, appearing to be looking down at whatever had interrupted their sleep.

“What’s going on,” he asks Earl, coming to stand beside the dishevelled elderly man. 

“They found another survivor,” he replies. 

Robert sighs, he’d kill for one fucking dull moment around here.


End file.
